


when destiny calls you

by oh-boleyn (scrxamitout)



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Catherine Parr adopts all the Tudor kids + Katherine + Neville kids, Catherine Parr-centric, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Happy Ending, Families of Choice, Gen, Henry is in this, Minor Character Death, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23313340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrxamitout/pseuds/oh-boleyn
Summary: It all started with a dream, then a memory, then it was so much she could barely take it. Headaches came and went, her personality suddenly switching over, and strange feelings she couldn’t place would take her to a world Parr couldn’t probably live in.After the graveyard, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore.Catherine Parr, the survivor, had reincarnated.orCatherine gets her memories back and decides to save Katherine from Henry.
Relationships: Catherine Parr & Katherine Howard
Comments: 22
Kudos: 126





	1. come stop your crying

**Author's Note:**

> I know I KNOW me doing another fanfic without finishing the two I have? more likely than you think!  
> This came up talking to Lexi (who as always is the greatest beta ever and I can't stop thanking her), about how Catherine Parr had a lot of stepchildren, and how would it play in a reincarnation AU.  
> A few points and TW:  
> -TW include death, reincarnation, older men/younger woman relationship (John Neville and Catherine Parr), Henry is in this being an asshole as always, and it will be as historical accurate as I can, so add every canon tw, if anyone thinks another TW is necessary, please tell me  
> -Margaret is Margaret Neville, not Margaret Lee (Maggie on the guitar)  
> -How reincarnation works will be explained better in later chapters  
> -I don't know how many chapters this will have  
> -Chapters won't be too long (around 3000 words)

Black was never her favourite colour.

If she had to choose, dark blue would always come first. From everyday clothes, to pyjamas, to every dinner look she would create for herself. It’s not like black wasn’t good, but it just never felt completely right on her. Maybe that was a memory she cautiously locked away, one for when she was still a child and her father died.

Catherine Parr was more than used to being in a graveyard, but having to bury your husband wasn’t exactly what she wanted the most.

Marriage was supposed to be for life, and she always craved to think so. Her parents were together until the sad end of Thomas’ life, which means that she hoped for the same. And it was, to a certain point one can think so.

John Neville was a tall, fair man. Older than her by a few years, having a previous marriage and two young children, his name sake and a sweet girl. They got married just months after getting engaged, when she was still young, barely twenty-two. And he died two nights ago, when she was barely twenty-eight.

To think of destiny as a cruel joke would be an understatement, because even when firmly standing up in front of the grave, Catherine Parr had no idea what was future had in store for her.

* * *

She always felt drawn to history, even from a really young age. Everyone would always joke about it, taking it lightly. Being named after an old English queen was fun, a lot of puns involved in it. Now she wasn’t sure how normal it was.

It all started with a dream, then a memory, then it was so much she could barely take it. Headaches came and went, her personality suddenly switching over, and strange feelings she couldn’t place would take her to a world Parr couldn’t probably live in.

After the graveyard, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore.

Catherine Parr, the survivor, had reincarnated.

* * *

Margaret Neville, Maggie for short, was her youngest step-daughter. From the moment they met, the girl always took a liking to Catherine, opposite to her brother, who despised the woman the second his father announced he was going to marry her.

That was why, at night, she was the only one upstairs, hearing the screaming from John and the muttered words her step-mother tried to say.

“You are  _ not _ my mother!”

“But I’m your guardian, and the owner of this house under your father’s will, and I will  _ not  _ tolerate you coming home late and high. You are putting your sister in danger.” There was a pause, which Maggie could only imagine that it was the moment Cathy would bring her fingers to her forehead, fighting internally not to scream. “You took the car without permission, just so you can go with your friends and get  _ high _ . Don’t tell me you don’t see the problem.”

“What I see is that you are a little–“ the sound of punching a wall resonates through the entire house– “and that my father really loved having a young woman warming his bed.”

Margaret has always hated the way her brother would spit out words when he was angry. Just days before John Neville, the older, death, the younger had talked to her the same way he was doing to Catherine now.

Luckily to her nerves, she heard someone going upstairs, just to then shut a door with a loud sound. Just moments after Maggie found herself in Parr’s embrace, both of them in the grand king sized bed in the main room.

“I love you, mom.” The girl said, getting more comfortable, preparing herself to fall asleep in the hug.

“I love you too, honey.”

* * *

Catherine wondered if she was the only one to have been reincarnated, but after some research she would clearly make out that she wasn’t the only one.

Her late husband had been working into a big enterprise,  _ Rose-corp _ , whose owner was an old womanizer named Henry. Just his name made her feel sick to her stomach, but she managed, she  _ had _ to.

After all, Catherine was not going to let herself commit the same mistakes she once did. Maybe it was having this double life, growing up with feminism and fighting for it, or it was just who she had always been. There was no way she could make more than what she did five hundred years ago, but now the mistakes were not going to come back.

A quick research showed that Henry was apparently dating the much younger Anna, who was a foreigner, daughter of German magnates. It gave Catherine a peace of mind that would only last a brief moment. Even if it didn’t happen yet, it was probably a matter of months, or less, until Henry met Katherine.

Parr was sure of her decision of saving the teenager for who she once served.

* * *

“Welcome!” Henry said with a smile.

Catherine was surprised to see he hasn’t changed a bit in this life.

She was different, her skin tones darker, her hair curlier, even her voice changed. Except for her name, anyone could say she was another person. But Henry, apparently, was destined to always be the whitest, most average, ugly man in England. His red hair now was blonde, borderline white because of his age.

“Good afternoon, sir.” Catherine smiled, trying to act as if she wasn’t disgusted.

“Please, call me Henry.”

“Alright, Henry it is.”

She sits on the chair in front of him, straightening her back uncomfortably.

Parr knows that with her memories back, the best thing she can do is run in the opposite direction and not look back, take Margaret and disappear. But knowing how the rest of the story goes, she won’t risk it. She had allowed more damage to come to people close to her in her old life, this time it was going to be different.

“What brings you here, Cathy?”

He says it in a smooth voice, and she freezes. Even if she can call him  _ Henry _ , she never said he could call her  _ Cathy _ . But there’s no reason to be surprised about a man in a position of power to take his rights for granted.

She smiles.

“I don’t know if you have been informed, but my husband died–“

“George, right? Such a shame. He was a great worker.”

“Yes,  _ John _ was a great man.” She smiles, trying to fake a helpless look.

Henry loved having the upper hand, and if that was what it was going to take to look good for him, then so be it. Catherine was going to be nice, so  _ goddamn _ nice. It saved her head once, why not make it twice.

_ Follow the plan, _ she reminded herself.

“But the problem is that I am now the only adult in the house. I haven’t had a steady job in years, writing is not exactly lucrative if you are not a best seller.” She gulps. “I was hoping, for John and the relation that once united our families, if you might lend me a hand.”

“I remember Thomas, he was a great man.”

Henry stops, and gives her a look. She feels like a prey, being haunted by the hungry eyes of a man who is old enough to be her father. An abhorred stare could be sensed on the little skin she was showing, as if he just can’t stop. Piercing blue eyes exploiting the view.

“I need a secretary, what do you think,  _ Cathy _ ?” His voice lowers, “would that be right?”

She holds a breath and nods.

* * *

“Why do you have to work?” Margaret asks, her face turning to a sad expression, “I don’t want to be home alone.”

“You will not be home alone, sweetheart.” Catherine tries to calm her down.

“I won’t take care of her.” John says quickly.

“I never asked you to.” Catherine says. “I am going to pick you up from the bus stop as I always do. You don’t have to worry about it, okay? Nothing is going to change.”

“It already changed,” The younger one said with tears in her eyes, “I want dad.”

A piercing silence comes through the room. The first time John Neville died, Margaret was older, and she acted cold towards death, even if she had just become an orphan, or maybe because of it. They rarely went over it, in their old lives.

In this one, it was different. From the moment they met, they usually discussed what it meant to be abandoned after the death of a parent. Catherine made always sure to tell the girl that no one could ever replace a mother, but that she was willing to be with her for the rest of their lives. Parr really loved Margaret, and would do anything for the girl.

“I know, honey, I know.”

She walked slowly, offering a gentle touch for comfort, and seconds later the girl just pulled her closer, sobbing into the curve of her neck. Catherine tried to maintain a rhythm, giving sweet strokes to her hair.

Catherine hears steps going away, and the front door closes. She releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, glad that John didn’t scream to his sister.

* * *

“She looks like a horse!” Henry laughed, in a very loud voice.

Looking at him, and his  _ mates _ getting into the office after a lunch that was probably overpriced made Catherine have to fight the urge to roll her eyes. The use of the word  _ horse _ made a chill go down her spine.

She tried not to show it, to keep arranging the multiple files. Her electric blue blouse was hanging loosely from her body, hiding her nervous breath when her mind started to overthink. If she wanted to make things right for Katherine, she was running out of time. The Anna chapter was closed, or at least it seems so, which means the younger shouldn’t take a lot of time to show up, or maybe, she already did.

“Catherine, I promised the kids to go and pick them up but with the lunch I don’t think I will make it in time.” Henry announces, his friends already into his office.

“Are you sure? You still have more than an hour and–“ she gets interrupted by his no-friendly look–“ sorry.”

“Go and take them out for dinner, or something, whatever. Make sure they are not home before eleven.”

With the last order, he disappears from the room.

Catherine curses under her breath, slowly checking her plan for that day. At least that meant she wasn’t going to suffer around man any longer, but she would for sure get a speech of Maggie’s opinion about the new job.

* * *

Catherine gets her car keys in her hands, careful about not dropping them on her way to the garage of the building.

Almost getting out, she can see a girl. Middle height, with a small build. Her hair is dyed hot pink at its ends, but it doesn’t imply she is unrecognizable to her own past self. The way she carries herself, with a straight back and softly moves, elegancy admirable for someone so young, betrays who she is. Even with a missing crown –luckily, not a missing head– she doesn’t look any different.

Katherine Howard is walking into the building with papers on her hand.

Parr gives two big steps, putting herself in front of the teenager. Strange enough, they have not as much height difference as she would have expected, but that doesn’t mean their age gap is less noticeable.

“Hi sweetheart.” Parr meets her with a smile.

The papers are still firm on the girl’s arms, and even with the older trying to make out the letters it becomes impossible. Maybe it wasn’t her best idea to take off her glasses, her myopia and astigmatism playing a bad turn.

“Hello, Miss…”

“Parr, Catherine Parr. Henry told me you would be here?”

It’s a risky idea, to talk on his behalf, while also not knowing if it was him who she was looking for. A confused look passes through Katherine’s face, before disappearing and smiling.

“Yes, I just have the papers he asked for,” she says, “it’s the project.”

“May I have them?” Catherine extends a hand, “he is busy today.”

“He told me to come today.” She insists.

“I know, but he is not taking anyone in. If you don’t trust me, come by tomorrow, I can set up a meeting. I’m his secretary, I think I haven’t properly introduced myself.”

“It’s alright.” She hands the papers. She waits for a second before saying a soft “Goodbye.”

“Wait, where are you going? Do you need a ride?”

“I have to go back to school; I go to a boarding school in west London.” She states.

“I’m going to pick up Henry’s daughters, Mary and Elizabeth, do you go to their school?” The younger nods. “Do you want me to take you there?”

“That sounds alright, thank you Miss Parr.”

“Don’t worry,” the older woman starts walking to her car, “and call me Cathy.”

* * *

“You stay in school all day?” Catherine asks, parking the car.

“Yes, I am in the dorms.” Katherine admits, shyly looking down. “Mary and Elizabeth are just in day school, right?”

Parr hums affirmatively, shooting Margaret a text. The girl has spent the day over her friend’s house, and agreed to go and dinner with Henry’s daughter in exchange of getting blue highlights on her hair for summer break.

The stepdaughter gets into the car, giving an attentive glance to Kat, who is nervously fidgeting with her phone on the front seat. With a look, Catherine gets Maggie to stop observing Kat in such an obvious way.

“Hi sweetheart, this is Katherine, we are giving her a ride.” She explains, turning the engine on.

“Hi mum!” she exclaims happily, “hello Katherine.”

“Good afternoon.” The teenager says.

“I’m Margaret, Maggie for short.”

“Katherine and I were talking about school.” Catherine tried to start a conversation. “She goes to a boarding school.”

“Are you planning to send me there?” Maggie asks, a horror expression on her face.

Kat can’t help but laugh.

“No, honey, never.” Catherine releases a chuckle.

“Good, school is already hard enough.” The younger says. “What’s your favourite subject, Kat?”

“History, or maths,” she answers truthfully, “yours?”

* * *

Mary Tudor has, apparently, changed in this life too. Her pale skin, grey eyes and red hair are replaced by darker tones. She was still thin, a slender figure, average tall. A fragile gold chain around her neck holding a golden cross near her heart. Her lips are not chapped like Katherine’s, and her black polish nail immaculate. Apparently, in this life, she also has to keep appearances.

She gets in, not without first confirming it is Parr the one driving. Luckily for the older girl, Howard had gone minutes ago, resulting in only her and Maggie in the car. The teenager gives instructions, where to turn and go, and soon enough a girl is getting into the car.

Catherine loses her breath for a moment.

Against what happened to the rest of them, how they can’t be recognized as their past selves in this life, Elizabeth is the contrary. She is just as Catherine remembered her, with her flowy hair and green eyes, she looks every inch as she did in her old life, still, there’s a smile on her lips, a sweeter innocence than the one that had been offered to her before.

“Liz, what would you like to have?” Parr asks, pulling through her mixed emotions.

The girl smiles, “can we have pizza?”

“Yes! Mom, pizza please?” Margaret asks, with a grin.

Catherine takes a moment to watch Mary, who hasn’t practically talked. She hums affirmatively, which gives the older the confirmation she needs.

“Pizza, it is.”

* * *

Elizabeth and Maggie seem to get along just fine, the older one being talkative and outspoken enough for the younger girl to relax and ease into the conversation. Even with the five years gap they find a way to talk about different TV shows and books. Maggie trying to explain Harry Potter to a very confused eight year old Liz sounds ideal and strange, but it’s the image currently being displayed in front of Catherine.

“Mary, are you alright?” She asks, noticing how quiet she is barely touching the food.

“Yes, I’m just tired.”

“Long day at school?”

Maybe trying to make small talk wasn’t her best idea, but since getting her memories back the idea of talking to the former queen was on her mind. They had been friends, or something like good acquaintances. Parr had gotten her back on the line of succession, and even with different views in religion they had gotten to a comfortable middle ground about it.

“Most of them are,” she says softly, “also life is just a little hectic now.”

“I can only imagine,” Parr tells, “you can talk to me if you want to.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, the older deciding not to keep pushing.

* * *

Once the girls have finished eating, she shots a text to their father, explaining that she should be going back soon.

When having to leave the car, Elizabeth seems both tired and unhappy, wanting to stay with Maggie, but Catherine convinces the girl with the excuse that they can become pen pals through her. She ignores telling them that probably Henry will just throw them away instead of helping.

“How did it go?” He asks, opening the door. “Also, next time you should try to get them home a little later.”

He laughs, in a horrible sickly way. Parr fights the urge to roll her eyes, biting her tongue in the process.

“It went well, they are lovely girls.” She states.

“Would you like to come in for a drink?”

She gulps, knowing what he truly means.

“I can’t today, Maggie is almost asleep in the car and I can’t leave John alone too much later. He might as well burn the house down.” She releases a half smile, trying to seem casual.

“Okay, but you owe me one Cathy.”

Catherine Parr nods, reminding herself that she has no choice. Never did.


	2. they'll see in time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine tries to deal with the memories and lives while someone makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fouth thing I post this week and maybe just maaaybe I'll also post tomorrow (wish me luck, I've been trying to finish that for the last few days and no luck).  
> this was always supposed to take time so I don't know when I'll post again but I swear feedback really helps me to write more.  
> Lexi obviously beta'ed this, also this was her idea, I'm just here filling the gaps.

**FROM GERMANY TO LONDON, THE NEW NIGHTCLUB THAT RISES IN TOWN.**

Kastle _, the club that is quickly becoming one of the most important venues opens its doors in plenty of daylight for us to visit._

_The crisis in the London night scene is real, we have known for some years now, with almost half of the clubs closing. Still, tourists and usual clients move through the streets every night, looking for a way to enjoy the moment. That is when the new club comes in._

_Founded by the daughter of German magnates,_ Kastle _offers a new place for the modern arty crowd, apparently unaffected by the on-going problems other venues face. With different paintings all over the walls, and the option to leave your mark. Inspired by the one in Germany from the same owner, it offers a mix of different arts, with live music playing every day and the best cocktails._

_We have the legendary painter Holbein to talk with us about the club and why it is his favourite in London._

_ Article available on our website. _

* * *

Catherine wakes up, confused for a minute about why she doesn’t find herself in her chambers, before realizing how reincarnation worked. Two timelines united in one, fighting for the space of her memories. Living twice was not helping at all with discerning what happened in this life, and what happened in the last one.

She rises from bed, quietly walking to Margaret’s own bedroom. The girl is peacefully asleep, unaware of the tragic fate she had to suffer in her past life. Parr checks on her twice, the fear of losing her again aching on her heart. Going back to the master bathroom, she gives a quick glance to John’s room. He is also laying in his bed, but she decides against checking on him, just in case the moody teenager might wake up.

Her daily routine, that previously consisted in wearing some relaxed clothes to drop the kids at school, now had to include getting herself properly prepared for work. Doing her make-up, choosing a tight-fitting formal dress, and making her hair in an up-do.

Catherine can’t risk her plan failing, let Katherine suffer again. And after talking to them, she knows she can’t also fail Mary and Elizabeth. For the relationship they once had, and for the love she feels for them now.

* * *

 _Rose-corp_ is the kind of ostentatious building one would expect from an international enterprise. White floors and walls, with lots of glass and light, modern and cold. Henry’s office is just like that, private, modern, photos of his children as if he cared for them.

Catherine had never felt bad in elevators before. It was never as if she loved them, but rather it didn’t mean anything, just another part of her life. Lately, for a couple months before she truly got her memories, it started to bother her. Without a reason she would feel locked, suffocated when she knew it would be hard to escape from a place.

Going upstairs in heels was never a good idea, but just the thought of an elevator makes her panic.

Catherine’s office is no more than a desk, surrounded by glass walls. It feels impersonal, not a single of her details. The thought of bringing a family photo, with her ex-husband and their kids is tempting, but she can’t risk it. She can’t risk giving Henry as much information about herself. About her loved ones.

She gets to the office, papers in hand, carefully controlling her breath. There’s a woman with short black hair and dark skin waiting outside. Something about her makes Catherine unable to ignore her presence. Her clothes are relaxed, but still looking clearly expensive. Touches of red bring a nice fit to the look, it can’t be more different from Catherine’s own ensemble. Less formal, generating an impact. Perfect for the spotlight.

“Are you okay there? You just went upstairs with all these?” The woman asks, getting closer. “Let me help.”

“Thank you.” Catherine says as the papers are taken away from her. “Catherine Parr, Henry’s new assistant.”

The woman smiles, twitching for a moment. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Anna of Cleves. Henry’s girlfriend.”

The real survivor, one may say. Parr smiles as polite as she can, while trying to remember every fact she can gather about her life. She had moved from Germany not knowing English, they were dating, married, they settled for an annulment, that one tabloid that said she owned a club, she survived, she was just in front of her. She tries to fit again two lives in one, when in reality she doesn’t know who the woman in front of her is.

“Are you okay?” Anna wonders.

“Yes, sorry, just tired.” She fakes a smile. “My life has been hectic lately.”

“Oh, I know.” The other laughs.

“You do?”

“I have heard the rumours,” Cleves brushes it off with a movement of a hand. “You can imagine how enterprises work.”

Before Catherine can ask, Henry comes out of his office with a surprised and polite: “Catherine.”

“Good morning.” She greets.

“Anna.” He says.

The German moves next to him. He is taller than her, but just for a bit. Their style contrasts and not in a good way. Anna looks clearly younger, making it an uncomfortable age difference that Catherine can’t get behind.

“What were you doing?” The ex-monarch questions, without a clue of what was going on Catherine’s mind.

* * *

Dinner used to be better for the family. Margaret and Catherine would cook together, and then the two Johns would clean the dishes. It was tolerable, sometimes even fun when they decided to watch a movie afterwards.

Lately it was dark, nobody talking.

The younger girl stayed in her room until it was obligatory to go down, excusing herself quickly when she finished. John was no better, having never liked her as much. He would go back to his room, without a flinch or a fight, not even a civil goodbye.

A thought of regret went through Catherine’s mind. Maybe in trying to save other kids she was depriving her own of her time and attention. As important the girls are, the Neville’s are too. She can’t help but feel guilty about not giving them as much thought as before. Regret also comes as a part of getting back her memories.

There are things that she wouldn’t dream to do in a present time, mistakes that can’t be solved. Parr wishes she could travel back in time, change how it was the first time, and not in this new, rebound reality. But she can’t erase her past, not since her memories are back.

She settles for preparing a good breakfast the next day, and tries to get her schedule straight to make time for work and game nights, making a new calendar with hers and the kids’ obligations. Distracting herself is good, as unhealthy as a coping mechanism compartmentalization might be it makes her productive, helping with the need to be useful.

Catherine doesn’t realize how little she had slept until the sun is already shining brightly in the sky. Her night interrupted by continuous cycles of either light sleeping or pacing off in the house or her bedroom, reorganizing her clothes and writing time and time again.

Her daily routine starts again, except that this time she makes sure to prepare breakfast before going to prepare herself and waking up the kids. Once the three are downstairs, Maggie smiles.

“Pancakes?” She asks, happiness showing through her voice. Catherine nods. “Thanks mom.”

“No problem, honey.”

“Thanks Parr.” John says, without much emotion.

Parr brushes it off with a smile.

“Mom, are we seeing your boss’ kids again?” The younger questions.

“I’m not sure.” Catherine says, truthfully.

She toys with the idea of being with the girls again, to form a new family —or rather, get it back—, not leaving them behind. The idea sounds tempting, if only it works. There’s still so much to do, too many things that can go wrong. She shoves the thoughts and feelings in the back of her mind. It is not convenient to think about it now. She has to be normal.

The rest of the breakfast goes without a hitch, the small family eating and talking about what they are supposed to do. Even John, as cold as always, briefly mentions some university applications he has to complete, providing a polite smile when Catherine offers to help. It feels normal, familiar, even as someone is missing.

* * *

“Henry.” She calls, knocking on the door.

“Come in.”

He is sitting, his phone in front of him. Of course, as always, he must not be doing anything, letting other people take care of his messes, giving orders and expecting them to be fulfilled, no matter how hard or impossible it might be. A pampered, useless man.

“A girl left this for you.”

Catherine walks to the desk, depositing the files Katherine had given her yesterday.

“Katherine Howard…” He says her name slowly, thinking.

It repulses Parr, sending chills to her spine. The way the name crosses his lips, just as if he never ordered for her to be beheaded. What is going to make Henry snap? Bring back his memories, throwing away any idea Catherine might have to save the girls? Is she running out of time?

She decides to don’t think about it. _No llames al diablo_ , she used to hear.

“She goes to the girls’ school.” Catherine adds.

“The one with pink hair, right?”

“Yes, she is.” She hopes for her voice to sound steady.

“Check it out yourself and give her feedback. Then make me a summary.”

Catherine wants to say that it’s not her job, and that he should do it himself, but bites her tongue. Maybe it is for the best.

* * *

As any other person who considers themselves more important than they actually are, Henry talks loudly. All day, every day, while Catherine tried to make her job, he would scream and laugh, calling his mates or tormenting someone who made the company lose a pound.

It gave Parr more information than what she actually needed, which was a good and a bad thing at the same time. At least she didn’t have to put a glass in the wall to hear what he was up to.

When she didn’t hear him for a good half an hour or so after passing him an apparently important call, her mind started going around the possibilities. The pain of a headache, like the first times her memories tried to resurface torments her. Fear haunts her. Acting on impulse rather than logic, she stands up, settling next to the door.

“I’m not going to take care of the girl.” She can faintly hear. “What is she? That’s not even a title.”

“Spying much?” Anna of Cleves questions, making the other woman jump because of surprise.

“I was just going to give him some papers.” Catherine lies quickly.

“And where are those papers?” The German instigates.

“I must have forgotten them on the table.”

“Don’t lie, it’s not necessary.” She admits. “I know the record Henry had with his assistants, and I’m not here to pick a fight. Look, can we ever go out to have a coffee? Grab lunch?”

Parr hesitates for a moment before nodding.

“Do you want my number?” Anna asks.

“Yes, of course.”

Catherine quickly gives her away her phone. Anna starts writing and then flinches for a second, her expression blank staring at the screen as if she never saw one. There’s a weird look, a glimpse in her eyes.

“Everything fine?”

Anna shakes her head, confused. “Yes, just, who is Katherine Howard?”

“What?”

“You just got a mail from her, I’m sorry for intruding but the notification popped up.” She explains.

“She is a girl who goes to Mary’s school. She presented a project a few days ago and I just sent her some feedback.”

Cleves nods, uncertain. She finishes writing down her number and gives the phone back.

“I hope we can talk someday, Cathy.”

“I say the same.”

* * *

Anna does not remember who Catherine Parr or Katherine Howard are, but it still brings an old echo. A name she once knew, someone she can’t quite place on her mind. A past so erased that she is not sure she ever lived it. Doesn’t know who they are, but their names won’t leave her alone.

She is torn between distrust and faith in the other woman, she had heard the rumours. Anna knows how Henry can be, but detached to that an uncertainty fills her. Is rather about hurt, than love. But the German is sure she had never met the other woman, as much as something inside of her says the contrary. But it would never fit in her life, not unless she had been on the bar at some point.

Cleves enters Henry’s office, where he is sitting with a glass of alcohol. She tries to put on a smile, knowingly having to keep appearances.

Being a disappointment of a daughter was enough to not want to hear more from her parents, about how she should have a real career and not just go around, opening bars and actually _enjoying her life_.

“Why are we even doing this?” Henry asked, and she had no idea.

She wished to fight, to say she loved him, but it would all be a lie. Because there was nothing there, no love, no care. Agreeing over breaking up was good, liberating even. It wasn’t sad, it didn’t make her chest ache, just the contrary. She felt finally free, her nerves calming down.

An odd sense of a déjà vu that told her that everything was going to be alright, at least for her.

* * *

When Anna of Cleves leaves the office, Catherine is outside, finishing her paperwork.

Katherine had responded to the feedback given, already correcting the flaws on her project. Parr couldn’t believe how smart she was, until the proof was clearly there. She should have guessed it, she did, after all, prevent a crisis in her past life. If she only had more time, one more chance, Catherine was sure the fifth queen could have accomplished great things.

Anna smiles and waves, saying goodbye, and the survivor responds quickly.

“Cathy, would you come here?” Henry asks.

Before she realizes, she is sitting opposite to him, inside of his office. And for the first time she feels fear, something wrong. Running out of time, the possibilities running through her fingers scaping quickly, but there’s no reason to worry.

As long as Henry is with Anna, everyone should be safe.

“The girls won’t stop asking for you, and it might be time for you to meet my boy, Edward.” He smiles, proudly. “Would you like to come and have dinner at my house, Catherine?”

She smiles, trying to conceal her feelings, to stop them from ruining her plans.

“Of course, it would be great.” She finishes, trying not to choke on her own words.

“We will be waiting for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are always great, also come and say hi on my tumblr (lessix) or my discord (lemxnpills#1196), we also have a fanfic discord now, so feel free to ask me for the link.
> 
> about this chapter, "no llames al diablo" means "don't call the devil" which, well, you can imagine, is one of my favorites things to say tbh. also, what do you think Henry was talking about on the phone?


	3. you must be strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember this? I haven't gave up on it, just university and stuff, but have a filler chapter.  
> this was beta'ed by Lexi and I'm really grateful also she taught me a lot while beta'ing it so just a big thank you to her.

Families in this century worked differently.

What would have once been seen as the greatest tragedy was currently something normal, something that happened in every family, every day. The absence of devotion to their faith, the lack of respect for authorities. Shame was different, stemming from other reasons than before.

Catherine can’t say she’s complaining about that.

Nevertheless, sometimes everyone could see it as reminiscence of old values, of the words that had been spat at her more times than wished, the difficult relationship between kids and wicked witch-y stepmothers, and the million cautionary fairy tales. The roots of a society that wasn’t so long gone. Of old values that weren’t forgotten with the centuries.

A part that remained the same was Henry’s favoritism for Edward. The way he would see his darling child, offering him the greatest education he could, the attention, the toys. The love. There was, still now, the connection with the son that he didn’t have with his daughters. The golden boy, while no one seemed to give two cents about his sisters. The world still revolved around him.

Parr doesn’t want to entertain thoughts about how the girls could be dealing with that these days, knowing that the first run wasn’t an absolutely great experience for either of them.

There are parts that she wished she could live again, but slowly. Being focused in the moment, taking in all the details that could be more than just required. If she could only remember the second where things could’ve changed. The exact picture in history that would create a new reality. To get knowledge out of her own experiences, out of a moment no one else could know.

But in this day and age she’s lost in the modern reality, and the mixed recollections of things that _ once were _ and  _ now are _ keep her up at night.

* * *

Margaret’s school wasn’t far from their house, yet the car ride was always an important time of the day. More so lately, since they didn’t spend as much time as before. The daily karaoke, the inside jokes that were born of those short trips and catching up about the day made them closer since they started doing it years ago when John was still alive and everything looked simpler.

Some concepts of her old life didn’t come exactly as something she had lived, instead it brought emotions, it brought certain pains that she couldn’t explain. The death of her dear stepdaughter and lady in waiting fit into that category. The girl who was still so young when she died.

The complications of reincarnating meant being scared of reliving the heartbreak.

“You’re still coming to my concert during the weekend, right?” Margaret asked, her big eyes staring directly at Catherine.

“Of course I will, have I ever missed any?” Catherine asked, knowing that she never did.

“No, but you didn’t work before.” The girl replied easily.

“Yes I did! Writing is a job,” she fakes indignation, adding a lighthearted, “just because I am working doesn’t mean I will stop being your mom.”

“Stepmom.”

Parr had to take a deep breath, focusing on the faux carefree attitude she was forcing herself to maintain. It hurt, even if it was the truth. She loved Margaret as if she was her own, they had talked more than once about it, about what it meant. Catherine had promised that she would never leave the girl alone, but Margaret was doubting it. It was a big step back that she didn’t want to deal with after so many other problems. A heartbreak that she wanted to forget. But she can’t overlook everything.

“That doesn’t change what I said.” She promises.

_ Small steps, _ Parr tries to convince herself,  _ it’s not an easy time for anyone. _

* * *

The bad start should have been a sign, once she gets to  _ Rose-corp _ things just go downhill.

The first mail that she receives are the meetings for the day, including the interviews with all the possible new interns, including the girl who was once queen between them. She scrolls down the names, trying to see if there are any other old acquaintances, but the search gives no other results, only her.

And Parr tries to work as fast as possible, scheduling hers to the first meeting  so that she can be the one assigned to it.  She moves around lunch breaks and arranges a video call for Henry to take. A part of her was utterly scared of it, of losing her job because of a slip. Everything spinning out of her control. 

At least he won’t be able to chop her head off her body.

Catherine deals with it, as the adult that she is. It wasn’t like everyone else always enjoyed their bosses or their jobs, but that is the way it worked. It was the way people got money — even if John had left her with a good inheritance and a substantial life insurance pay out, she wanted to keep those for his children. And most importantly, she was doing it in order to correct her past, something that almost no other person on earth had the chance to do.

When Katherine arrives, her look is as if she was overworking herself. And she probably was.

The teenager had no makeup on, meaning that Parr could see the dark bags under her eyes. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, making it hard to notice the pink ends. The school uniform is perfectly neat, giving her a formal look. And that’s when she realizes how much effort the girl is putting forth to try and not look young, to look mature. To look respectable.

“Good afternoon,  Ms. Parr.” Howard says, showing a small smile.

“You can call me Catherine, or Cathy, I insist.” The older woman promises. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Yes, I got a couple of hours.” She explains. “I also got an energy drink this morning.”

“You know those are filled with chemicals and it’s risky for your health, you should try to have some real sleep, not that… crap.”

She shrugs, hiding in herself, “I just had too much to do, once this round of exams is over, I’ll be able to work more on the project and try to get more sleep.”

“You’re working a lot on this, and you’re doing great, give yourself a break and go out, do something fun.” Catherine says.

She finally guides Katherine to the small office where the meeting will be held, holding the papers with the messages that have been going back and forth between them for the past few weeks. She mentally checks all the names being previously said, all the important information.

“I don’t have many friends to hang out with,” the fifth queen mutters, “and I appreciate that comment, but I really should just work harder, my uncle got me this wonderful opportunity and I want to make the most of it.”

“If this is what you really want.” Catherine comments. “But I insist, I can talk it over and give you longer deadlines if you need.”

“It’s okay, who’s coming to the meeting today?” The teenager asks. “Is Henry Tudor coming?”

“No, he has a meeting with a chief engineer from Australia. Impossible to reschedule, time zones, you know?” Parr smiles, keeping her heart from beating out of her chest. “But I’m here and I’ll pass him any notes I have.”

“I’m so nervous.” Howard confesses.

“You’ll do great,” the older woman tries to help, “you’re smart.”

“You don’t know if I am.” Katherine whispers.

“But I know.” She offers a reassuring smile. “I’ve read your project, and it’s good, great even. You don’t have anything to worry about. This is just a first meeting.”

* * *

It goes well, better than ever expected.

There are small differences in how this Katherine moves in the room, compared to her previous life. She’s more relaxed, more open. The way she makes her voice be heard is slow and natural, she doesn’t order, but rather commands for others to hear her ideas.

And she’s aware of what she’s talking about.

Howard has the answers to every question, and she smiles when a difficult one appears. She has the knowledge and is confident in it, in a way that the older woman can’t stop wondering what her previous life could’ve been if she received education as she currently is. If the society would’ve allowed her to grow, to learn. If she had a better chance.

_ At least she has a second one,  _ Parr tries to comfort herself.

* * *

Henry looks furious when he gets to the meetings room, his eyes totally fixed on her. Howard is gone, and they’re in the middle of the second project when he takes her out of the room, excusing both of them and promising to be back soon.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, angrily.

Parr tries to look at him with a fake ingenuity, “I’m sorry, you had the meeting with the Australian and I thought I could help you by taking notes.”

“I don’t care about what you  _ think _ , I’m your boss and I make the decisions.” Henry shouts, and she can sense the fear growing. “You have to go with my orders, not the other way around.”

“I’m sorry.” She says quickly, turning her eyes to the floor and leaning her head down. “It won’t happen again.”

“I hope so.” He spits out the words. “You’re a good secretary.”

She looks back at him, and all she can see is the tainted smile, the wicked expression she distinguishes from the previous life. The one that can make her feel sick, dull. She was nothing compared to him, it was impossible to win, because each time she turned her head he’d be there, and she’d have to sweet his ear with words she would rather never pronounce.

Even when she has the memories, he still has the upper hand.

* * *

When Catherine gets home, all she can do is go again over her routine. Pick Margaret up, make dinner, try to talk with John. All again.

The way everyday felt like the same, the slowly draining feeling of knowing how it will end. The routine tiring her with no respite. The fear of Henry knowing, of being aware of everything she’s doing to avoid him, to get him away from the teenager he already hurt enough. She felt as if she was a shadow of someone, but it wasn’t either of her two lives.

It was something in the middle, a limbo.

A dreadful story that will just restart time and time again, one that she wishes she could’ve left behind. But not even centuries gave her freedom, nor an escape from him. Maybe it was a way to pay for her sins, a curse she would have to suffer.

Because tomorrow she will wake up, she will make breakfast, drive Margaret, deal with him, go back, make dinner, try to start a family talk and restart. She will do the same next day. And the next. And so on, until who knows when.

She’s once again leaving it all behind for him. Everything she enjoyed, being a mother, writing, learning. All the new possibilities of her new found all life, all she could learn, wasted again. Catherine has become not his nurse, but his assistant, which almost feels as demeaning and as thankless as before.

* * *

She sat careful, measuring all of her steps. One wrong move and she’s out, or so he said. Time is almost running out, out of chances. And the fear that it might cost her her head is still pulsating on her brain. A fear that she never felt before, but the memories that say the opposite.

“Cathy,” Henry says, his voice casual but strong, “you will come to have dinner with me on Saturday.”

“I’m not sure I will be able to make it.” She lies, avoiding anything that can potentially play against her.

“Nonsense! Cancel prior plans, you’re coming to my house.” He insists.

“Will the girls be there? I should bring Maggie; they would have an amazing time.”

“I can arrange that; the nanny can take care of the kids.”

Parr tries to avoid the idea of being alone, trapped in his territory. For a moment she wishes everything was normal, she wishes she never had the memories, she wishes everything was different the first time. But she knows it wasn’t, she knows that she can’t change the past, and that now is the best moment she has. She delayed it so much, and after three tries he grew tired.

Three times the charm was two more than his previous life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments are super nice and so are kudos, come to say hi to my tumblr (oh-boleyn)!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! as always comments and kudos are more than appreciated! you can also find me on my tumblr (lessix) + text me if you are over 18 and want to be on a discord!


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